


Coffee

by Wyndewalker



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyndewalker/pseuds/Wyndewalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something about Ezra's new coffee, will the guys figure it out before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee

Ezra Standish, walking GQ fashion plate and ATF undercover agent, pulled his sleek black Jag into a parking spot at the Fifth St Starbucks. Stepping out of the leather interior, he ran a hand down the front of his charcoal gray Canale suit jacket to smooth out any wrinkles. A quick glance at his watch indicated it was a quarter to nine and he was later than usual for work.

When he'd gone to get his morning paper from the middle of his front yard, where the paperboy insisted upon throwing it, he'd discovered his neighbor was still letting his dog do its business on his lawn. He doubted that would continue after the man received the bill for the six hundred dollar pair of Italian leather shoes he'd ruined. To make matters worse he'd discovered he was out of coffee and had been forced to do without his first cup. All in all it had not been a good morning. Hopefully, after a cup of his favorite Mocha Frappucino things would look up.

Striding into the coffee shop, Ezra inhaled deeply, enjoying the heady scent of freshly brewed caffeine. He smiled in relief when he saw there were only three people on line. He'd missed the morning rush because of his tardiness, thank God. The line went quickly and he soon found himself standing before the always-chipper counter-girl, Bethany.

"Good morning, Mr. Standish," she chirped happily, possibly even more cheerful and hyper than she usually was. He wondered just how many cappuccinos she'd had so far.

"Good morning, my dear. A double shot Mocha Frappucino with whipped cream please."

One minute she was smiling, the next she looked like she would start bawling. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Standish. The frappucino maker is broken. I've called the repair company like six times already and they say they'll get here as soon as they can but they still haven't shown up and I think they're just not taking the situation seriously enough cause people need their frappucino in the morning and I can't give them their frappucino if the frappucino maker isn't working and that makes people angry and that seriously bums me out cause I want to serve people their frappucinos but I can't do that if the frappucino maker is broken, ya know?"

Ezra grabbed her wildly gesticulating hands before she could do harm to herself, him, or the counter display. Before he could ask what had gotten into her she was off and running again.

"We don't have any frappucino but we did get in this great new coffee blend. It's South American Rainforest blend and it is sooo good. I don't think I've ever tasted coffee this good. I musta had at least five cups so far this morning. It's just so good I can't stop drinking it. Here try some. It's sooooo good, you won't believe it." She pulled her hands away from his to pour a large cup of the new blend. Carefully taking it from her, he sniffed delicately at the dark liquid. It had a pleasant aroma. Bolstered, he took a sip letting it sit in his mouth, savoring the rich, loamy, and surprisingly sweet taste.

"You are quite right, my dear. This is excellent coffee. I'll take this large cup and a bag of the coffee bean blend." Ezra sipped again at the delicious brew. "Better yet, make it two bags. I must have some of this at work and at home. Mmmm, keep the change, my dear."

He left more than enough on the counter and walked out, cradling the precious paper sack in one arm, while his other hand held the 24oz cup close to his face so he could inhale the aroma. In the Jag he reluctantly placed the cup in the holder while he secured the paper sack in the passenger seat. He took another sip of coffee, only leaving it in the cup holder long enough to pull out into traffic. The 15-minute drive to the office was made one-handed as he continually sipped at the dark brew.

By the time Ezra reached the underground parking lot, he'd consumed the whole 24ozs, causing an urgent need to use the facilities. Jumping out of the Jag, he grabbed the paper sack of coffee and nudged the door shut with his hip. He'd just reached Buck's pickup when he realized he'd forgotten his briefcase. With a sigh he returned to the Jag, retrieved it and headed once again to the elevator.

He paused by Vin's jeep, putting down his briefcase so he could scratch Cuervo's back. As was their morning ritual, he reminded the cat what would happen if he found paw prints on the Jag. "Just one paw print, Mr. Cuervo, and I will be sporting a brand new pair of orange and cream colored fur gloves this winter. Of course that would clash hideously with my suits, but you get my meaning don't you, Mr. Cuervo? Good. So long as we are in mutually beneficial agreement."

Cuervo simply stared at him, twitching his tail from side to side. With a nod, Ezra continued on. He was almost to the elevator when he realized he'd forgotten his briefcase. A quick return trip to Vin's jeep and finally he made it to the elevator. Paper sack in one hand, briefcase in the other, and one leg twitching nervously as he suppressed the urgent need for the facilities, he waited impatiently for the elevator ride to end.

On the twelfth floor he bypassed the main entrance to Team Seven's office area and went straight to the men's room. A few moments later he reemerged, the paper sack cradled securely by his left arm, feeling quite relieved and in need of another cup of coffee. He took two steps before heading back inside to get his briefcase again.

Entering the office area, he said a polite hello to Nathan and Josiah, who just smiled and shook their heads at his lateness. He ignored Buck and JD's teasing, although he did drop his briefcase to catch the nerfball flying at him. Ezra tossed it back to JD, making sure it passed just out of his reach. The young man lost his precarious balance and tip over backwards in an attempt to catch it. Buck nearly toppled over as well, laughing at the kid's indignant "Hey!"

"Morning, Ez," Vin said with a grin as the undercover agent sat down at the desk across from him. They both turned at the sound of a crash. Buck was laying flat on his back, trying not laugh while pushing JD from his chest.

"Good morning, Mr. Tanner. Beautiful day isn't it?"

"Ayeah." Vin glanced sideways at Ezra. "Uh, forget something, Ez?"

"What? No, of course...where did I...ah, there it is." Once again Ezra retrieved his forgotten briefcase. He'd barely sat down before he was springing up again. "I'm going to make myself some coffee. Would you like some more of that mud you insist upon calling coffee, Mr. Tanner?"

"Uh, sure. Thanks." Vin watched the Southerner disappear into the break room, paper sack clutched firmly in his hands. Chris poked his head out of his office and shook his head at Buck and JD's antics before looking towards Vin and Ezra's desks.

"Has Ezra managed to get his scrawny butt in here yet?"

"Yep. He's in the break room making himself coffee."

"When he gets back here tell him I want to see him, and tell him to bring the Davidson case file."

"Sure thing, cowboy."

Chris just glared at him before slamming his door closed. Vin grinned, going back to the file he'd been working on. Buck and JD had finally gotten back to work by the time Ezra came bouncing out of the break room. Vin happened to look up as Ezra paused in the doorway, a sudden look of realization crossing his face and he turned back into the other room. He returned quickly with a second cup of coffee in his hand. A vague unsettled feeling filled Vin's gut, making him frown. Something about Ezra's behavior wasn't right. He watched as the normally reserved agent practically skipped across the office area, a wide grin on his face.

"Here you go, Mr. Tanner. One cup of mud, black with far too much sugar in it. Just the way you like it."

"Thanks, Ez. You feeling okay?"

"Of course. I'm fit as a fiddle. Righter than rain. Happier than a fox in a hen house. Things couldn't be better. Did you know this is the absolutely most delicious tasting coffee I have ever had the pleasure of sipping? It has the most aromatic bouquet and the taste is sheer divinity." Ezra gestured expansively with his empty hand. "I've never felt more awake, even after having a triple shot espresso made by the very best coffeehouse in Milan. This is truly a work of art."

"Ez, you're talking about a cup of coffee," Vin said, starting to feel very uneasy.

"Well, yes, of course, Mr. Tanner, but this is simply the most exquisite coffee I've ever had. I'd strongly suggest you try some, but this is my coffee. You will simply have to take yourself down to the Fifth St. Starbucks and purchase some for yourself. Just a word of warning though," he said, wagging his finger, "young Miss Bethany is quite hyper this morning. I believe she has been imbibing heavily of this delicious brew herself. Ah, good morning, Mr. Larabee!" Ezra sing-songed when the ATF leader stuck his head out the door of his office. Chris glared at him, wondering what the joke was.

"My office now, Ezra, and bring the Davidson case file with you."

"Of course, Mr. Larabee. Right away, Mr. Larabee. It will be my pleasure, Mr. Larabee." With a broad grin Ezra picked up his coffee and headed towards Chris. He paused, returned to his desk, grabbed the necessary file, and once more headed towards Chris's office. He slipped past the blonde man and took a seat, all the while sipping at his coffee. Chris looked from Ezra, who sat with one leg bouncing, to the others in the office. The five agents shrugged their shoulders. They didn't have a clue what was up with the Southerner either.

"What have you got for me, Ezra?" Chris asked taking a seat in his own chair.

"I'm sorry, Chris, but you're going to have to get your own coffee. This is mine, and I'm not sharing it."

"Uh, that's fine, Ez. I was talking about the Davidson case."

"Oh yes, that seedy little man Davidson. An extremely disreputable fellow he is. Don't like him. Don't like him at all. No, siree, Bob. Well, actually that would be no, siree, Chris, now wouldn't it. Hmm, must remember that. Chris, not Bob. Yes, your name is Chris Larabee, not Bob Larabee. Definitely not. Doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it? Nope, just not the same. This is very good coffee by the way. I heartily recommend you swing by the Fifth St. Starbucks and pick up some for yourself. I'd share but this is my coffee. Anyway, about that odious little man Davidson. Let's see, what has he done? He's been a very bad boy, you know. He's suspected of arms trafficking, racketeering, some drug trafficking on the side, assault, possible murder or at least accessory to murder. He has an appalling taste in clothes as well, you know. Absolutely hideous. Why if there were fashion police, he would be a prime candidate for arrest. Right after Mr. Wilmington, of course. I simply do not understand his choice in clothes. If he were to simply dress himself properly and in a stylish fashion why I believe he'd truly have the women lined up outside his door just waiting to see him."

"Davidson?" Chris asked confused, still trying to figure out how the man had managed to say all that without taking a breath.

"No, Mr. Wilmington. Haven't you been listening to me, Mr. Larabee, Chris, not Bob? Where was I? Oh yes, that hideous little man Davidson. Now, I don't think I shall have a very hard time ingratiating my self with that disgusting little man Davidson. Has a severe case of money envy, you know. Very bad. His mother came from good family, old money, but when she married his father, well the family wasn't too happy about that, let me tell you. No, siree, Chris not Bob, they weren't. Disowned the woman in fact. That repellant little man Davidson was brought up on stories of 'when I had money' and 'good families are everything'. He wants to be that. Gain back what his mother lost, you know."

Chris listened in sick fascination as Ezra rambled on and on about every inconsequential detail he'd learned about Davidson. He couldn't believe how much Ezra knew about him. What was frightening him even more were the actions of the man in front of him. Normally a verbose man, this extreme rambling was a bit much, even for Ezra. The Southerner's left hand had never stopped moving as he talked, gesturing wildly about, while his right hand held the large cup of coffee, bringing it to his lips every few words so he could take a sip. His eyes had taken on a slightly glassy look. After what had to be almost ten minutes of non-stop chatter Ezra suddenly quieted, a small frown on his face as he looked at his coffee cup.

"Oh dear, I appear to be out of coffee. Would you like some of that mud Vin calls coffee, Mr. Larabee, Chris not Bob? I'd bring you some of this absolutely superlative coffee, but this is mine. I'll be right back."

Before Chris could even say anything Ezra was up and out the door. Chris got up and followed him into the main office, watching as the undercover agent disappeared once more into the break room. He looked around at the others who were also staring as Ezra passed. "Okay, when the hell did I step into the Twilight Zone?"

"Actually we were just wondering the same thing, pard," Buck said, openly concerned.

JD pulled off his headphones. "Yeah, Ez is acting really weird. Even for him. I mean, I don't think I've ever seen him smile that much before, have you guys?"

"Nope, least not big grins like that," Vin said. "Anyone else notice he keeps forgetting stuff too? I saw him forget his briefcase twice, a cup of coffee for me, and the Davidson file for Chris."

"Do not mention that name," Chris groaned. "Ezra told me more about that weasel in ten minutes than I ever wanted to know in my entire lifetime. The man was seriously babbling in there. I was waiting for him to pass out from lack of oxygen."

"He seems quite taken by that new coffee he's drinking. Perhaps that has something to do with it?" Josiah asked, leaning back in his chair. He glanced in the break room and stopped to watch Ezra. The Southerner was juggling two oranges, an apple, and what was definitely his papaya. "Did anyone know that Brother Standish knows how to juggle?"

Just then the little bell went off on the coffee machine, startling Ezra. He dropped all the fruit but managed to grab the papaya before it hit the ground. Josiah let out a sigh of relief, then groaned when Ezra placed it on the edge of the counter and it rolled off to hit the floor with a slight splat sound. A moment later, fresh cup of coffee in hand, Ezra strolled back into the main office. He smiled upon seeing Chris standing by Vin's desk.

"Ah, Mr. Larabee, Chris not Bob, I have the details on the Davidson case. Would you like to go over them now?" He completely missed the looks of incredulity from the others as he walked to his desk. Opening his briefcase, he started rifling through it. "I could have sworn I put it in here this morning. I'm sure I put it in here, you know."

Buck and JD glanced at each other, mouthing, "You know?" That was not a phrase usually found in the Southerner's vocabulary. Too much like slang.

Vin got up and slipped into Chris's office, returned and held the file out to Ezra. "This what you're looking for, pard?"

"Ah, there it is. Wherever did you find it, Mr. Tanner? I was sure I'd left it my briefcase. Thank you. Now, Mr. Larabee, Chris not Bob, where were we?" Ezra started back towards Chris's office but paused at JD's desk when he heard the music coming from the headphones around the younger man's neck. "What is that you're listening to, Mr. Dunne? It doesn't sound like your usual taste in audio stimuli."

Before JD could make any kind of reply Ezra removed the headphones from around JD's neck and was placing them over his own ears. "Why, Mr. Dunne, you are listening to showtunes. I don't believe I've ever heard you listen to this particular type of music before. What a cultural shock it must be for you. Ah, I remember this one."

They watched in shock as he moved away from JD. Ezra was completely oblivious to the fact that as he moved, he pulled the headphones out of the jack. He began to twirl gracefully around the office as he sang in a credible falsetto, "I feel pretty! Oh, so, pretty!"

The guys weren't sure if they should be worried or laugh hysterically. Finally Chris nodded to Josiah, who quickly stepped up to the dancing Southerner. Before the smaller man had a chance to pirouette away, he grabbed him in a bear hug. The coffee, still clutched firmly in Ezra's hand, sloshed a little at the sudden stop in movement.

"Why, Mr. Sanchez, did you wish to dance?"

"Uh, no thanks, Ezra. I'm not really in the mood for dancing. I think maybe you should hand over that cup of coffee to brother Vin there."

"No! This is my coffee. He has to get his own. Just go to the Fifth St. Starbucks and they'll be more than happy to give you some coffee of your own. Just watch out, young Miss Bethany has been heavily imbibing of the coffee this morning. Even perkier than usual, and I didn't think that was possible. Would you be so kind as to unhand me, Mr. Sanchez?"

"Not until you give Vin that cup of coffee."

"No! It's mine! Tell them they can't make me give up my coffee, Mr. Larabee, Chris not Bob." Ezra pleaded, trying to squirm free of Josiah's grip while at the same time attempting not to spill any of his precious coffee.

"I really think you need to hand over that coffee, Ezra, and stop calling me that."

"But, Mr. Larabee, Chris not Bob, this is my coffee. Why should I give it to them? Let go of me, Mr. Sanchez."

"No, Ezra."

"Let go."

"No."

"Yes." Ezra pouted.

"No."

"Yes." Ezra's struggles started to become violent, no longer caring if he spilled the coffee. "I'm going to tell the Judge on you!"

Surprised that Ezra would resort to such a childish threat, Josiah loosened his grip. The smaller man immediately wriggled free and dashed for the corner between the wall and the filing cabinet. Wedging himself in there, Ezra glared at all of them, clutching his coffee cup and muttering, "My coffee. You can't take my coffee. All mine. Mine. My coffee."

Unable to do more than stand there in shock, none of them noticed when Judge Travis walked in.

"What is going on in here?" He demanded gruffly. Ezra flung himself from his corner, straight through the others and wrapped his arms around the Judge like a child.

"Judge! They were being mean to me!" He cried, burying his face in the Judge's chest. Awkwardly the Judge patted his back, saying, "There, there," while looking to the other six, his gaze obviously demanding an answer.

"We think something's wrong with that coffee he's drinking. We tried to get him to hand it over but he started to get violent," Chris answered, hoping maybe the Judge could get the Southerner to listen to reason.

"There's nothing wrong with my magnificent coffee. They just want it for themselves and Josiah grabbed me and wouldn't let go of me unless I gave it to them but I got away. Tell them they can't have it."

"Maybe it would be a good idea if you let them have some, Ezra. You know all good boys share," the Judge said trying to make it sound like it was a good thing.

"No! Not you too, Judge!" Ezra pushed away from him, his eyes wide, clutching the cup to his chest. "My coffee. It's my coffee."

They watched helplessly as Ezra swayed in front of them and collapsed in a heap. Vin and Buck rushed forward to break his fall. Chris stopped long enough to call 911 for an ambulance to the Federal building. Josiah was already on the phone to downstairs for Forensics to send up a team. Nathan was checking Ezra's vitals and listening to him breath. He put a hand to his forehead and frowned at the heat coming from the unconscious man.

Realizing they couldn't all hover protectively over Ezra, Chris grabbed Vin and Buck. "Vin, put that coffee Ezra brought in into an evidence bag. They're going to need to run an analysis of it. Buck, go downstairs and wait for the paramedics. I don't want them getting delayed downstairs trying to get through security. Now!"

Half an hour later, the paramedics had Ezra on a stretcher and were headed downstairs with most of the team on their heels. Josiah had agreed to stay behind and help Forensics in the office with the promise that they'd call him the second there was any news.

Two hours later they were all in the waiting room of Four Corners Memorial, becoming increasingly agitated. None of them had seen hide nor hair of a doctor since they got there, and Josiah had reported that Forensics wouldn't have the report ready until later in the afternoon.

With a muttered growl Vin stalked towards the Nurse's station for the fifth time in twenty minutes, bound and determined to get an answer. The nurse looked up as he started his approach and leaped from her chair to dash into the room behind her. Vin stopped in his tracks surprised then, muttering a curse, he returned to his spot by the waiting room window.

Knowing they were all about to break, Nathan rose to his feet to go find someone who could tell them something about the Southerner's condition. Even if he had to grab them by the shirt collar and drag them back here. Before he got more than a couple of steps a doctor appeared in the doorway. They were all on their feet in an instant, crowding around her, demanding at once to know what was going on. A shrill whistle cut through the noise cutting it off abruptly. Raising an eyebrow, she dared them to start in again.

Chris glared the others into silence, folding his arms over his chest. "What's going on with my agent?"

"I have a pretty good idea, but I need some questions answered first. Is there any possibility that Agent Standish has a drug addiction?"

"WHAT!!"

Chris loomed over her as he growled, "Lady, you better watch what you're saying about my agent. The idea that Ezra is a user is absolutely insane. The man is an ATF agent for Chrissakes!"

"Agent?"

"Larabee."

"Agent Larabee, I'm only trying to do my job. I'm not saying this to slander Agent Standish. If there's no possibility of drug addiction, then is it possible he intended self-injury?"

"What in hell're you going on about?" Vin demanded, starting to get really angry now. "What's wrong with Ezra that you're trying ta accuse him of taking illegal drugs an' maybe trying ta kill himself? Ain't no way Ezra'd do either of them things."

A chorus of yeah's and damn straight's followed this statement, making the doctor rub a tired hand over her face. "Look, gentlemen, we just had to pump your friend's stomach because there were large amounts of speed in his system. We're running him through detox but right now he's in a coma. I can't guarantee he's going to come out of it. We're talking about a serious overdose. To make things worse, he's not the first case like this I've had come in today. He's actually my eighth so far, and I've already lost two people. There is absolutely no common denominator between them that I can find. Three business executives, a student, a construction worker, a housewife, and a young woman who works at Starbucks."

"Shit!" Vin hissed, sudden realization hitting him. "Is her name Bethany?"

"Yes, actually. You see a connection there, Agent...?"

"Tanner, ma'am, and yes, I do. It's that Goddamned coffee Ezra was drinking. He got it at the Fifth St. Starbucks. Couldn't get enough of it. An' remember, guys, how he said Bethany, the counter girl was even more hyper than usual, that she'd been drinking too much of the coffee? I'd bet anything that's what it is."

"Is there anyway you can get me a sample of it?"

"Our Forensics lab is already working on it. I'll get on the phone with them right now. Knowing what it is they're looking for will help speed things up. I'll make sure they get a full report to you ASAP," Chris said, pulling out his cell phone. He nodded once to the doctor then, heeding the no cell phone policy of the hospital, left the room. Once outside, he quickly dialed the Forensics lab.

A few minutes later he returned to the waiting room. "Nathan, JD, I want you two to go back to the office. Nathan, go to Forensics, see what you can do to help and get that report the second it's ready. JD, they still have the bag that damned coffee came in. Get the name off the label and look up everything you can find about the company, particularly an address. As soon as you two have the information we need I'm calling the Judge for a warrant and we're going after these bastards."

"What about us?" Buck asked. Josiah, Vin, and he waited for Larabee to give them instructions.

"We stay with Ezra. There's still an outside possibility this was a deliberate attack against him. Either way I don't want him to be alone when he wakes up."

"That's a good idea," Nathan added. "He's gonna be real disoriented when he comes to, and there's a chance not all of the drugs will be out of his system. Considering how he feels about hospitals and doctors someone's going to need to make sure he keeps his butt in bed."

 

An hour and a half later Team Seven gathered once more, this time in the ICU lounge. Nathan handed the report to the Doctor. "Ratio-wise it's not a large percentage but between the combination of the drug with the caffeine already in the coffee the effects are twice as bad as they should be. The more consumed the worse it gets."

"Thank you, Agent Jackson. I'll have our people start working on this right away."

Once she was gone Chris turned to JD. "Did you get the information I asked for?"

"I did even better. I got the names of the owners of the RayCal Coffee Emporium, the address of their office and packaging plant. Plus I've got warrants to search the grounds and buildings and arrest the owners if necessary. The Judge is just waiting for your call to get back-up on the way. He's also already sent Team 2 to shut down the Fifth St. Starbucks until it can be determined at what point the drugs are being put into the coffee." JD said triumphantly, waving the sheaf of warrants in the air. Chris grabbed them and scanned them quickly.

"All right, people, listen up. Nathan, I'd like you to stay here with Ezra. You know the most about this stuff and how Ezra's likely to react to all this shit in his system. JD, get on the phone with the surveillance techs. Give them the list of everything we need and have them meet us en route. Buck, call the Judge and tell him to send in the back up. Everyone have their vests in their cars? Good. Let's go."

They soon found themselves down the street from a dingy-looking warehouse with a sign out front proclaiming it to be RayCal Coffee Emporium. The guys quickly secured their vests and headsets while JD listened in to what was happening at the warehouse with his long-range receiver. After a couple of minutes he gave a disgusted snort and pulled off his headset.

"Business as usual inside. No clue that we're here. Hell, these guys don't have a clue to begin with. There's four people inside, two of whom are the owners. They're in the office arguing about putting the drugs in the coffee. Cal isn't so sure it's a good idea, since they are using 'illegal' drugs," JD scowled, making quotes marks with his fingers. "But Ray is telling him to quit being such a wuss, that it's such a small amount no one'll ever notice it and once they get people hooked they'll start reducing the amount they put in. Goddamn idiots is what they are."

"Wait a minute," Chris glared at him. "You're telling me that this whole thing is being run by two idiots with two helpers who just wanted to get people addicted to their coffee so they could sell more of it."

"In a nutshell, yeah."

"Goddamn sonuvabitches! They deserve the fucking scare we're about to put in them. Everybody into position. Teams Three, Five, and Six, you all in position?"

There was a round of affirmatives, though Mike Kelly, leader of Team Six asked, "Hey, Larabee? Just how many people are in here? This place looks deserted. You sure your boy knows what he's doing? Maybe I should send over my guy. Show'im how it's done."

"Shut up, Kelly. Your guy's got nothing on JD. There's four people inside. I want to put the fear of God in these bastards. Nobody fucks with my team and gets away with it. We go in on my mark." Chris glanced at his men, certain they were in position, then, "Now."

The doors were kicked in with a resounding crash. Twenty ATF agents streamed into the building shouting variations of 'Freeze', 'ATF', and 'Get your ass down on the ground, NOW!' The two workers immediately dropped to the ground, hands automatically covering their heads. The two owners came rushing out of the office, the larger of the two men demanding to know what was going on. The smaller man, who they figured to be Cal, started yelling at his partner.

"You said no one would notice! You said it wasn't a big deal! You said we were going to be rich! I told you it was a bad idea, but noooo! What the hell do I know? This is all your goddamn fault, you son of a bitch!"

The agents watched in amusement as Cal launched himself at Ray. Soon the two of them were in an all-out fistfight. After a couple of minutes and a gesture from Chris, Josiah and Buck waded in and pulled the two men apart. They were quickly cuffed and pushed down onto crates in front of a glaring Chris. Vin flanked him with his sniper rifle cradled in his arms while JD scowled from the other side. Buck and Josiah towered behind them to make sure they didn't try and go anywhere.

Chris glared at them for a moment longer before speaking in a low dangerous voice, "I'm going to read you your rights and tell you what you're being charged with. I strongly suggest you keep your mouths shut cause I don't feel like explaining to my boss how my fist ended up rammed down your throat. Understand?"

Cal nodded vigorously, but Ray started to open his mouth. Vin snarled and a sound that could only be described as a growl emerged from his throat. Ray snapped his mouth shut.

"Good. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to an attorney. If you don't have one or can't afford it, one will be appointed to you. You have the right to a single phone call once you've been processed at the station. Do you understand these rights?"

Both men nodded.

"You are being charged with illegal drug possession, illegal distribution of said illegal drugs, two counts of manslaughter, and six counts attempted manslaughter, including one of *my* agents. I'm sure the DA will find a bunch of other stuff to tack on there, but for now that's more than enough to put your two sorry asses in jail for a real long time. Goddamned idiots. Get them out of my sight."

Buck and Josiah were more than happy to hand them over to Mike Kelly and his team for booking and processing. Team Seven was on their way back to the hospital to be with their brother.

**********

It was early the next morning before Ezra began to stir. Vin was the first to notice, having fallen asleep with his head on the bed, one of Ezra's hands trapped beneath him. Raising his head, he found Ezra's face turned towards him, green eyes blinking as they struggled to focus. Vin grabbed the ever-present cup of water and straw off the night table and held it to the Southerner's lips. When he was done it was put back on the table.

"How ya doin', Ez?" Vin asked softly.

Ezra took a moment to answer, his gaze moving around the room as far as it could go without turning his head. Finally, his accent thickened by the drugs still in his system, he said, "Ah'm in the hospital?"

"Yeah, you're in the hospital. Gave us quite a scare, ya know." Vin tilted his head to the side at the Southerner's puzzled expression. "Jus' how much do you remember?"

"Ah," Ezra paused, visibly trying to collect his thoughts. "Ah was runnin' late to work this mornin'. Everythin' seemed to be conspirin' against me. Ruined a pair of my Italian loafers thanks to the neighbor's dog. Ah stopped at Starbucks to get a frappucino, but the machine was broken. Miss Bethany gave me a new coffee blend to try. It was very good, but there was something odd about it. Ah..."

"Damn straight there was something odd about it," Chris interrupted, woken by their voices. "You were flying higher than a kite because of that stuff."

"What was in it?"

"Besides Folgers coffee, it was laced with speed."

"Oh Good Lord," Ezra moaned weakly, his mind already coming up with all sorts of ramifications. "Do Ah still have a job?"

"Yeah, you've still got a job, Ez," Vin answered with a grin. "The beans used ta make your coffee and Starbucks were spiked."

"So Ah was not only one to suffer this indignity?"

"As of about two hours ago the doctor said they'd had 15 cases come in," Nathan answered, also having been woken by them talking. "There were three fatalities. Two older business men suffered massive heart attacks. The third victim was the counter girl, Bethany. There was so much of the drug in her system that she just went into heart failure. There was nothing they could do to save her. I'm sorry, Ezra."

They were all surprised by the sorrow he displayed. Vin touched his hand, expression sympathetic. "You all right, Ez?"

"Yes, Ah'm fine. Young Bethany was a sweet girl and did not deserve such an ignominious end. Ah trust you gentlemen have apprehended and incarcerated the vile miscreants responsible for this dastardly act of cowardice?"

Vin chuckled. "Sounds like you're gonna be jus' fine, and yeah, we got the bastards."

"Turned out they weren't actually trying to hurt anyone," Buck said. "They were just lookin' for a way to get people addicted to their coffee so they'd buy more of it."

"Which was really a stupid thing to do," Nathan added. "They had no idea what kind of affect the drug was going to have when mixed in with the caffeine. They're just lucky more people didn't die because of it."

"I think when all is said and done they will have learned their lesson, Brother," Josiah said gently.

"You should have seen it, Ez," JD said excitedly, bouncing out of his chair. "Us and Teams 3, 4, and 6 busted in on them at this rinky-dink little warehouse they were using. The whole thing was being run by two guys with two workers. The workers just dropped to the ground when we came charging in. The two guys running it got into a fist-fight with each other. Then Buck'n Josiah sat'm down in front'a Chris and Vin who were just standin' there glarin' at'em and Vin's holdin' his rifle an' lookin' like all he was waitin' for was Chris to give'm the signal ta shoot both of'em. I swear when Team 6 took'em away I thought they were gonna piss themselves they were so scared."

Ezra looked from JD to the others who were either shaking their heads or, in Chris's case, hiding their face. Finally he said to Vin, "Did Mr. Dunne by any chance get into that damnable coffee, Mr. Tanner?"

"Hey!!" JD shouted, sending the others into fits of laughter and bringing a nurse to glare at them until they quieted down.

**Two Weeks Later - Ezra's Condo**

Chris smiled at the haggard-looking undercover agent who was glaring balefully at the six men standing on his doorstep. When he didn't invite them in Chris shouldered his way past him, the others following, each carrying a brown paper sack, or in Josiah's case a tray of coffee cups. The men proceeded to make themselves at home in the slightly disorganized living room of the condo.

Ezra continued to glare at them as he shut the door and followed them. Standing behind the couch, which had also been acting as his bed, he folded his arms over his chest. "To what do I owe this visit at the ungodly hour of 8 am?"

"Brought ya breakfast," Vin answered, holding up a box of donuts he'd just pulled out of his sack.

"I've got bagels and there's supposed to be some croissants in here somewhere," JD reassured the man when he saw him shudder.

"Thank you, Mr. Dunne. This is really unnecessary, gentlemen. I'm quite capable of looking after myself."

It had been almost a week before the hospital would release him and until yesterday at least one of the six men had stayed at Ezra's. Even after his release from the hospital, the Southerner had continued to have severe withdrawal symptoms from the drug. Chris had been a little surprised when it had been Josiah and Buck who'd spent the most time taking care of the Southerner. Josiah he could understand. Buck he hadn't understood until he remembered all the shit the ladies man had put up with from him when he'd gone on his drinking binges.

Looking at the Southerner now, the man looked as if he'd been on a weeklong drinking binge. His eyes blurry, dark circles around already sunken eyes, hair standing up in greasy spikes and fine tremors that still wracked his slender body. The forest green silk pajamas he wore were rumpled and looked like he hadn't changed in several days, which they knew for a fact he hadn't. Chris gripped one of Ezra's arms and led him over to the couch where he pushed him down to sit.

"We know you can take of yourself, Ezra. We're here because you don't have to. You are a part of this family and we will stand by you and help you through this. Now you can talk yourself blue in the face but we're not going anywhere. So, be quiet and eat your breakfast. We also got you some other food since we know you haven't done any grocery shopping."

Ezra opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head in mild exasperation. Finally, "Thank you, gentlemen. I am very - grateful for what you've done for me."

"No problem, Ez. That's what families are for," Buck grinned and slapped him lightly on the back.

"We'll always be there for you, Brother."

"Who's ready for coffee?" Nathan asked holding up the tray, breaking the moment. Six hands immediately reached for a cup. Before Ezra could take one, his first cup of coffee since that fateful day, Vin had grabbed the one marked with a big E.

"I don't know, guys. Maybe we shouldn't let Ez have any. I mean, he could get addicted to it an' all."

If it weren't for the big grin on Vin's face, Ezra might have taken offense at his words. Instead he went with the good-natured teasing. "If you do not hand over that cup, Mr. Tanner, all sorts of nasty and vile things will befall you. Now hand over the coffee before I am forced to hurt you."

"I don't know, Ez. That sounds to me like ya might be addicted." Vin tried not to snicker as he backed away, but couldn't stop himself.

"Vin," Ezra growled.

"Oh, just give him the coffee," Chris snapped with a grin, plucking the cup from Vin's hand and giving it to the Southerner. They watched in amusement when the Southerner curled himself into the corner of the couch and just sat with the cup in his hands inhaling the sweet aroma.

"Uhmmm. Mocha Almond Frappucino. My favorite." Watching the rapturous expression on his face as he sipped at the dark brew, they wondered if there wasn't something to the idea that he might be addicted to coffee. Ezra cracked open an eye to look at them, noting their wary expressions. "If you had gone two whole weeks without any caffeine, gentlemen, for fear of setting off another craving fit would you not think your first sip was the most wondrous thing you'd ever tasted?"

"He's got a point," Vin admitted, probably being the second biggest coffee junkie of the group.

Buck grinned and said, "I gotta agree. There sure is something about coffee."

JD groaned and smacked Buck with a pillow while the others just chuckled and enjoyed their own drinks.

Fini


End file.
